The Lost Prince

by Matt Myklusch

  “It is,” Waverly said, sounding more like herself. “But what am I saying? You don’t think you’re the prince.”

  “That’s right. I don’t.”

  Waverly studied Dean a moment. “Is it my imagination or do you sound less certain than you did last night?”

  “I think the caves are affecting your hearing.”

  “I don’t know. You’ve surprised everyone else here. Why not yourself?”

  Dean thought about it. He was the right age. His arm bore the right mark. Also, he had never known his parents and had been the property of a one-eyed pirate since birth. Alone, each point meant nothing, but together … Was it possible that he really was the prince of legend? No. Of course not. He couldn’t afford to pin his hopes on crazy dreams. They were sure to fall apart on him. He had to hold on to what he knew for sure. Stick to the plan. Stay the course. Leave while you still can.

  “Come on. We’re in the home stretch now,” he said, tapping the map with his finger. “The exit lies a mere fifty feet away.” Dean took Waverly by the hand and led her around a corner. They stopped short when they saw the flooded tunnel. “Or not.”

  The way forward ran downhill and was filled with black water. That was bad enough, but to make matters worse, the tunnel angled straight down at the far wall and ran beneath an overhanging rock formation. To get to the other side, Dean and Waverly had to leave their light behind and completely submerge. If they wanted out of the labyrinth, they had to swim for it.

  “Are we sure this is it?” Waverly asked.

  Dean checked the map. “It had better be. Getting here was hard enough, and there’s no time to turn back now.”

  “That’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

  “This is it,” Dean said. “We know it is. Look.” He waded into the water and jumped in when he reached the drop-off point. He dove down and swam around, blindly feeling at the rock walls with his hands. “There’s room to swim,” he said when he came back up. “We’re almost there.”

  “Is it dark?” Waverly asked.

  Dean climbed out of the water. Of course it was dark. “There’s no other way to the throne room. We have to do this.” He reached out a hand to Waverly. “I’ll be right there with you.”

  Waverly nodded reluctantly and set the map and lantern down on a dry stone ledge. She took Dean’s hand and followed him into the deep water. “Oh, this is cold.”

  “You go first. That way, I can keep my eyes on you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Take your time. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

  Waverly took a moment to steel her nerves and dove under the water. Dean swam after her. It was dark without the lantern and beyond scary to be swimming blind in a tunnel that, for all he knew, could be a thousand feet long. But the map had gotten them this far, and he had to trust it. What choice did he have? He felt the walls with his hands as he swam. He could see nothing. A family of fish swam by, startling him, and Dean knew they had the same effect on Waverly, for she was right behind them. He tried to stop her as she passed him, but she pushed him off, kicking wildly and swimming back the way she came. Dean couldn’t call after her underwater. All he could do was follow her back to the beginning of the flooded passage.

  By the time Dean surfaced, Waverly had already gotten out of the water. She was sitting at the end of the tunnel, shaking, with her arms wrapped around her knees. “I can’t do it. It’s too far. It goes on forever.”

  “It doesn’t go on forever. It’s fifty feet. Maybe a touch less. We were almost there.”

  “I’m not going back in there. I can’t.”

  Dean got out and sat down next to her. “Of course you can.” She was chilled to the bone, as was he. He put an arm around her, which helped a little bit. He didn’t want to cause her any additional panic. “Take your time. We’ll try again when you’re ready.”

  “I said I’m not going back in there!” Waverly said, shoving Dean off.

  Dean leaned back. “Wow. I guess we finally found something you’re afraid of.”

  “I’m not afraid!” Waverly snapped. Then she sighed, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. “Fine. So what if I am?”

  Dean snapped his fingers. “Exactly. So what? That’s the way to get around fear. You just have to realize you don’t have a choice. When you want something, you go after it, no matter what. You want to live, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we have to get down that tunnel. It’s not as if we can stay here forever. You didn’t pack enough bread, and even if you did, the tide will come by nightfall. The choice is drown here or drown in there. But at least in there you have a shot.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Please. You have to try.”

  Waverly looked up at Dean, then down at the water. “I’m not going first.”

  “No. That was a mistake. We’ll do it together this time.”

  “You won’t leave me?”

  Dean knelt down in front of Waverly. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” He took her hand in his. “I’m not leaving you for anything. If we drown in there, we drown side by side. That’s the deal.”

  Waverly gave a slight chuckle. “How can I pass up an offer like that?”

  “Just remember, you volunteered for this.”

  Waverly and Dean got up, and in they went, back into the long dark tunnel. The water was just as cold and black as it had been the first time. Holding each other’s hand, they swam slower than before, but this time, they swam forward and kept going. The course was twisting and uncertain, but they didn’t stop. To Dean, the tunnel felt longer than fifty feet. It felt more like a hundred, but as they neared the end, a faint light began to grow. They pushed themselves toward that light with all the strength they had, pulling each other along until they reached the end of the tunnel. They broke through the water at the same time, gasping for air. The water was shallow enough for them to stand. Between great heaving breaths, they reached for each other and embraced.

  “Thank the stars,” Dean said.

  “Thank you,” Waverly replied.

  Dean shook his head. “We did it together.”

  “And I never want to do it again.”

  “Agreed!”

  They were in another large underground chamber, this one right below the throne room. Up at the roof, Dean saw glass tubes that led to fountains in the great hall above, ready to be filled by furious, churning seawater. Light pouring in from overhead illuminated a spiral staircase in the center of the room, which wound up to a door in the ceiling. A round marble slab with a triple wave crest was carved into its underside. Waverly directed Dean’s attention to it. “Go. Pound on that door and all the nobles in Zenhala will hail you as the heir of Aquos.” Dean started up the stairs, and Waverly grabbed his wrist. “You can count me among them. The blood test tomorrow is a formality now. No one but the true prince could ever accomplish all that you have done.”

  Dean didn’t know what to say.

  He led Waverly up the steps and banged on the door in the ceiling. A crowd of cheering nobles could be heard on the other side. For the first time since he’d set foot on Zenhala, Dean wondered if he might be deserving of their praise.

  CHAPTER 27

  LAST DANCE

  That night, a feast celebrating Dean’s successful completion of the trials was held in the Aqualine Palace. Ronan wanted to leave before the party started. He wanted off the island as soon as possible, before the storm hit. Rook’s final attempt to locate the orchard had been fruitless, and there was no point in staying any longer. It was time for the three of them to head back and take their chances with One-Eyed Jack.

  Or maybe just two of them would go.

  Ronan and Dean might have suspended hostilities with Rook during their time on Zenhala, but neither of them had forgotten his treacherous nature. Dean worried what Rook would do when the three of them stood before One-Eyed Jack once again. He couldn’t be trusted to hold his tongue when One-Eyed Jack asked why his
parrot was never sent back with directions. But if Rook weren’t there, Dean and Ronan could make up any story they wanted.

  That was how it had to be.

  They would leave Rook behind to get sealed in by the storm, and send out Sisto right before they left. By the time the parrot reached St. Diogenes, and One-Eyed Jack started sailing, it would be too late to get ahead of the storm, but he would see that they had sent the bird. He just had no way of knowing when they had sent him. Dean would give One-Eyed Jack the dates of next year’s harvest, and a map to the island. Without Rook there to muck things up, it could work. He could still get out of One-Eyed Jack’s pocket if everything went according to plan.

  Unfortunately, that meant Rook would be left on Zenhala, free to tell everyone all about Dean. Rook would drag his name through the mud, which was exactly where it belonged, but Waverly would hear everything. Who he was. What he was really doing on the island. He’d never get the chance to explain himself. As the time to leave drew closer and closer, Dean found he liked the plan less and less. He found himself looking for reasons to put off leaving. The party was as good an excuse as any.

  “Ronan, we can’t leave before the feast. I’m the guest of honor. They’ll know something’s wrong if I don’t show up. We have to make an appearance. Don’t worry, we can leave halfway through.”

  Ronan looked skeptical. “I’m sure you’ve slipped out of tighter spots than this.”

  “Come on,” Dean pleaded. “We can ditch Rook at the party and make our escape before anyone knows we’re gone. As long as people see him, they’ll assume we’re somewhere nearby. It’s perfect. Besides, when’s the next time someone’s going to hold a feast in my honor? I can’t miss this.”

  “There it is,” Ronan said. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t want to give up the good life. You want to keep playing prince and take your princess to the ball.”

  “Wrong,” Dean said. “That’s wrong. I’ll have you know Waverly doesn’t even like dances. She’s not like that. She likes surfing, cliff diving, and that sort of thing. She loves the ocean like I do.”

  “Really? Maybe you should ask her to come with you, then.”

  “Do you think she would?”

  Ronan glared at Dean. He was being sarcastic. Dean felt like an idiot. The words had slipped out before he could stop them.

  “Look,” Ronan began, taking pity on Dean, “you want to have one last dance with your lady friend, fine. We’ll go.”

  Dean’s face lit up.

  “But don’t get it into your fool head anything’s gonna come of it. We leave this place tonight, you hear?”

  Dean clapped his hands. “Ronan, you’re a prince.”

  “Belay that!” Ronan shot back. “I’ve had my fill of princes.”

  “Fair enough.” Dean laughed and ushered Ronan limping out the door. “Let’s go find Rook.”

  The party was a grand affair, held in the palace throne room. Ronan might have had his fill of princes, but the nobles of Zenhala took a different view. By then, the prevailing wisdom at court was that Dean had to be the prince, and the lords and ladies of the kingdom feted him lavishly. There was music, food, and a great deal of merriment. In the minds of all the guests, only the lost prince could have conquered each trial in the spectacular fashion that Dean had managed. Everyone was delighted to see him. He was congratulated by everyone he met, just as Waverly said he would be. Dean left Rook and Ronan at a large buffet table and walked the room, trying to find her. He was going to miss Waverly. Life in the palace would be hard to give up too. When he left the lap of luxury this time, he knew it would be for good. Dean tried to console himself with the fact that he never belonged there to begin with.

  Dean walked around the room, stopping in front of the Golden Throne. He looked at the brand on his arm.

  Unless I do belong …

  For the second time that day, Dean wondered if it could all be true. He had passed the trials, sure enough, but he attributed that to a little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck. The trials were not proof of royal lineage, regardless of what the guests at the party thought. The royal blood test—that was the only one that mattered, and that was a different story. Staying to take that test and waiting until the storm sealed him in was a risk he couldn’t take. What would happen if he stayed and his blood wasn’t blue? Would they make him leave? A year down the road, when the storm broke, would he be sent out into the world to try and explain to One-Eyed Jack where he’d been all this time?

  Or worse, maybe they’d let him stay, but without the crown. He wouldn’t be the prince. He wouldn’t have Waverly. He might have to stand by and watch as she was wed to one of Arjent Ralian’s sons. The idea was too horrible to think about.

  “There he is, the man of the hour!” someone called out. It was Jarret Ralian. He strode up, wearing a grin that Dean wanted to plow his knuckles into.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Congratulations on beating my record in the tunnels. A mighty feat, even if it did take two of you to do it.” He snatched two goblets from a passing server’s tray and handed one to Dean. Jarret clinked the cups together and drained his dry. Dean didn’t drink a drop. “What’s your secret, Dean Seaborne?”

  Dean set his glass down untouched. “I cheat. Usually does the trick, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Jarret looked amused. “Yes, I would, but I’m not talking about the trial. I couldn’t care less about that. I’m wondering what your secret is.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Please, let’s be frank. It took you long enough to figure things out, but surely by now you’ve realized why my family wants you dead.”

  Dean nodded. He had indeed. “You want Waverly.”

  “It’s not Waverly. It’s what comes with her.” Jarret indicated the Golden Throne. “My father challenged the three of us to kill you during your trials and make it look like an accident. Whoever succeeded would be the one he put forth to marry Waverly Kray in your place.”

  Dean regarded Jarret like a tiger that could pounce at any moment. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because if you wanted to turn us in, you would have done so by now. I’m curious. What tipped you off? Was it the first time Jin tried to kill you or the second?”

  “Junter tried too,” Dean said.

  Jarret shook his head and made a clicking sound. “He didn’t try very hard.” He leaned toward Dean and put a hand to his mouth. “Just between you and me, my brothers aren’t very bright. Jin’s got a sailor’s knot where his brain should be, and I’m fairly certain Junter has a third bicep between his ears.”

  “Ah,” Dean said. “You’re the smart one. Is that it?”

  “Smarter than you.”

  “If that’s true, why did you lose?”

  “I haven’t lost anything. You see, I know something these people don’t.” Jarret reached out and put his arm around Dean. “You’re not the lost prince,” he whispered.

  Dean removed Jarret’s arm as if it were a piece of seaweed that had washed up on his shoulder.

  “When you first got here, I was afraid you might be the genuine article. My father was convinced, but I had my suspicions. They were confirmed when you didn’t say anything about Jin’s second attempt on your life. Honestly! He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing that time. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was him, and still you said nothing.” Jarret’s eyes flitted about the room and eventually settled on Rook, who could be seen stalking the edge of the dance floor, stuffing his mouth with shrimp. “That got me thinking.… If Dean Seaborne will keep quiet about something like that, what terrible secret must he be hiding? I’ll find out. I might have missed my chance to drown you in the tunnels, but we aren’t finished, you and I. You’ll never sit on the golden throne. That belongs to me.”

  A footman at the door announced Waverly’s arrival. She entered with grace and beauty, a
priceless treasure in more ways than one.

  “So will she,” Jarret said, picking up Dean’s untouched goblet. “Enjoy your party. It’s almost over.”

  Dean stood there simmering as he watched Jarret leave. The way he paused in the center of the floor to offer Waverly a respectful bow boiled his blood. The little hellion was right. If they stayed here, she might actually end up with him.

  He had to do something.

  Dean crossed the floor to Waverly. “Was that Jarret I saw you talking to? What did he want? Was he bitter that you and I broke his record? I hope he was.”

  Dean took Waverly by the hand and led her back to the door, away from everyone. “Forget him. I have to ask you something. Something important.”

  “What is it?” Judging from the look on Waverly’s face, she could tell it was something that was weighing heavily on Dean.

  He shook his head. “Not here. We have to go somewhere first.”

  “Where?”

  Dean looked around to make sure no one else was listening. “The orchard,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

  At first, Waverly thought he was joking. When she realized he was serious, she gasped. “The orchard? Why?”

  Dean took a breath. There was no turning back now. “Because I’m not the prince, Waverly. I can’t be. All these people here tonight are wrong about me. They’ll find that out soon enough. So will you.”

  “No, Dean. You don’t know that. You’re just scared.”

  “That I am. With good reason.”

  “What reason? You already conquered the trials.”

  “Tomorrow’s test is the only one that matters. I’ll take on any challenge, but I can’t change the color of my blood. You’ll see. Tomorrow, you’ll see. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with the golden orchard?”

  “I can explain everything, but it has to be there. I want to see it. I need to see it. Please, will you take me?”

  Dean looked deep into Waverly’s eyes, silently pleading with her. She looked back, conflicted and confused. After what felt like an eternity, she closed her eyes and nodded. “Meet me outside the main gate in ten minutes.”